


His Favorite Gifts

by LadyAmalthea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Party, Drinking, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: Chapt 1 - Detroit 2035Chapt 2 - Detroit 2039Two very different birthdays, and two very different times in Hank's life. A lot has changed in four years, and yet... some things haven't.(Happy Birthday, Hank!)





	1. The Card

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally caved in and got myself a Twitter! 
> 
> https://twitter.com/canticumexvacui

 

_ Somewhere in the suburbs of Detroit _

_ September 6th, 2035 _

  
  


“Dad! Daddy! Wake up!!” 

 

Hank groggily opened his eyes to find a bouncing weight on top of him. “Mornin’, champ… guhhh…” Hank missed the blissful quiet of late-waking mornings when he had a day off. Before Cole, and even before Miriam, the simple life of a bachelor meant sleeping in whenever possible. After the divorce he still got in a few mornings of peace and quiet before 9am.

 

But, with his birthday falling on Cole’s first day of school for the year, he’d have to sacrifice that luxury for another day.

 

“Daddy! Get UP! You gotta help me get ready!” The youngster jumped off the bed, darting down the hallway to his bedroom with a squeal. Hank smiled as he rubbed his face, and rolled out of the messy sheets to find his son.

 

“I’m up, I’m coming,” he called down the hallway, locating a giggling five-year-old in the doorway of the bathroom. 

 

“Daaaaadddddd we gotta brush our teeth!” The small hands tugged him into the small tiled bathroom. Hank looked sleepily into the mirror at himself, giving himself a small nod, as he glimpsed himself as a 50-year-old for the first time.

 

“Yeah, yeah..” Hank got his toothbrush from the seashell-shaped holder, following Cole’s lead. Not wanting to bother buying two different toothpastes, Hank squeezed the bottle of bubble-gum flavored gel onto the bristles of his brush as both of them cleaned their teeth. 

 

Years and years ago… Hank remembered being told that humming “Happy Birthday” twice, it was the amount of time you should spend brushing your teeth. He chuckled at the thought, finishing up his business just after Cole rinsed his brush and stepped down from his step-stool to reach the sink. 

 

“Hi Sumo!” The boy announced the greeting loudly, which hardly bothered the lumbering St. Bernard. The two of them disappeared into Cole’s room while Hank combed his hair back, and trimmed his beard a little. 

 

He didn’t look bad for 50, he admitted. His thick blonde hair was graying in a few spots, the wrinkles in his face were certainly deeper than when he was 40. Still… at least he wasn’t balding like his father was at this age.

 

Cole insisted that Hank help him get dressed, even though the precocious child was more than capable. They had gone clothes shopping the week before for the new school year, and picked up some of the items on the supplies list from Cole’s teacher. It was a comfort to see that things weren’t so different from when he was a kid, as the list mostly requested things like pencils, notebooks, and crayons. 

 

“All right, let’s get some breakfast. Eggs and toast?” Hank asked as he padded into the kitchen.

 

“Pancakes!!!” Cole shrieked as he ran down the hall, accompanied by a bellowing  _ woof _ and Sumo.

 

“We’ll have pancakes on Saturday. Can you let Sumo out?” Hank opened the fridge as he pulled out a carton of eggs and a loaf of sliced whole wheat. 

 

Cole pushed on the big dog’s butt, “C’mon, let’s go!” He ushered Sumo to the back door, following him into the backyard.

 

Hank took the relatively quiet moment to take a deep breath, and just focus on making them breakfast. He even cooked a small batch of plain scrambled eggs for Sumo. It was still fairly warm out as summer held out stubbornly, and Hank opened the window as he cooked to cool down the room a little. He watched Cole run circles around Sumo, being careful about not ruining his new jeans. “Who’s ready for breakfast?” Hank called out the window as he slid the eggs onto two plates and over a pile of dog food in a big stainless steel bowl. Cole came dashing inside, patiently waiting for Sumo before closing the door and hopping up onto his chair. 

 

“Yay! Breakfast!!!” He bounced in his seat, drumming the table on either side of the plate set before him.

 

“Apple or orange juice?” Hank asked, opening the fridge.

 

“Apple, pleeeeease,” the kid began to dig into his eggs before the juice was poured in front of him. Hank smirked as he watched his son devour the eggs and toast, chattering away about how lazy Sumo was this morning.

 

“Do you remember your teacher’s name, Cole?” Hank asked, beginning down the list of need-to-know questions before relinquishing his son into the world.

 

“Mrs. Goldstein.”

 

Hank nodded, “Yup, bingo kiddo. What about my cell number? Do you remember that?” Hank listened closely as Cole slowly rattled off the ten digit number, correctly of course. A few other questions came to his mind as he started to clear away their dishes and help Cole tie his new shoes. His mom’s phone number for emergencies when Hank didn’t pick up, their address, the phone number for the precinct. They were all written on a notecard in his backpack, too, but Hank felt better knowing Cole didn’t need it. 

 

After saying “bye” to Sumo, they got into the old station wagon and started driving through the neighborhood to the small elementary school. Hand in hand, the father and son walked into the brick building, greeted by teachers and staff enthusiastically. They walked to the classroom in the first wing on the right, each teacher’s name in big, blocky letters outside. Cubbies lined the walls, and they found the one with Cole’s name right by the classroom door.

 

“I’ll pick you up at 3:30, okay? And then we’re gonna go play some mini-golf,” Hank promised, fluffing Cole’s mop of hair.

 

“Yay! The place with the ice cream?” He asked.

 

Hank nodded, “Yup, that one.” While on his knees, Hank pulled his son in for a big hug, fighting hard against the prickling feeling in the corners of his cheeks. “I love you so much, Cole. Have a fun time, okay?”

 

“I will, daddy. I love you too,” Cole kissed his cheek before the teacher called for the students to join her in the classroom, and the kids scurried through the doors.

 

Hank mozied down the hallway and back out to the car, finally letting a few, small tears leak from his eyes. “Fuck…” he cursed to himself with a smile on his face.

 

It had been hard…  _ really  _ hard since his ex left. She fought for custody, but settled for one weekend a month, Cole’s birthday, and certain holidays. Hank didn’t mind; they both loved the kid dearly, and he seemed pretty unfazed by it, since he had been so young when the dust settled on the divorce papers. Hank would do anything to keep his kid happy, but for the next 7 hours, he finally had some time to himself.

 

When he got home, he plopped on the couch, and was swiftly joined by a large mass of fluffy dog. He pulled open his phone for the first time that day, noticing a few messages with little cake emojis and confetti. Part of him just wanted to go back to bed, but the “responsible adult” voice that nagged him convinced Hank to get back in the car and go visit his parents. 

 

It was nice to see them without having them dote on their only grandson for a change; they of course meant well, but sometimes they needed to talk about serious stuff without Cole around. They greeted him with warm, wrinkled smiles and a hot cup of coffee. They discussed the health of a few family members, they asked about Cole and Miriam, they bickered back and forth about some inconsequential moment in Hank’s childhood that made him want to become a police officer. The usual parent stuff.

 

“Hank, dear, have you drawn up a will?” His mother asked, rather out-of-the-blue.

 

He scoffed a little, “Yes, ma. I made one last year,” he replied, sipping his coffee.

 

“How good’s the life insurance policy for officers nowadays? Enough to get Cole through college?” His father asked.

 

Hank spurted out a bit of coffee in surprise, and did his best to explain. He didn’t like the thought of him dying before retiring from the force in 15 years, let alone before Cole went off to college. He continued to humor his parents with their uncomfortable but well-meaning questions until the afternoon.

 

“I’m gotta go pick up Cole, but, we’ll see you in a couple weeks for his birthday party?” Hank asked, getting his leather jacket from the chair behind him.

 

“Yes, of course we’ll be there!” His mother kissed him on the cheek loudly, “Happy Birthday, Henry.”

 

“Thanks, ma.” He hugged his dad, who expressed a similar sentiment, before getting back into his car with the radio blaring. He loved his parents, but was thankful  _ that _ was over with for the day.

  
  


Hank was certainly not the only parent to drop his kid off at school on the first day, but he was  _ definitely _ not the only one to pick him up. He had to park a little ways from the entrance, especially with all the school buses lined up, but he made his way to the sidewalk outside as the bells rang loudly from inside. The bigger kids got out first, some waiting for their younger siblings to emerge. After a few waves, the first graders came out, and Hank’s heart nearly stopped when he saw the delighted look on Cole’s face. He was talking with two other kids, a boy and a girl, and pointed at Hank excitedly when they made eye contact. 

 

Hank knelt down and opened his arms as the elated five year old flung himself into his arms. What Hank didn’t notice from far away was that a brightly colored bandage was on his left cheek. “Hey, what happened here, bud?” Hank gently touched the skin around the orange bandage.

 

“I tripped on a rock when we went outside for recess. But Judy and Carson came over to make sure I was okay!” Hank assumed those were the names of the two kids he was with, who had both found their respective parents, as well.

 

“Well, who’s ready for some mini-golf?”

 

Cole raised both of his arms excitedly, “I am!!”

  
  


Mini golf was, as it always was with Cole, a slow-moving but silly adventure. Their favorite place was pirate-themed, and a Jerry android attendant always gave Cole a big sticker with a Jolly Rodger on it. On the 10th hole, Cole lucked out with a hole in one, and Hank grinned ear to ear. And of course, in lieu of birthday cake, they each got a cone of soft serve ice cream.

  
  
  


“Hey daddy…” Cole yawned as the movie on the TV began to roll its credits. 

 

“Yeah?” Hank took a sip from his glass; a light beer, just to celebrate a little. He tried not to touch the stuff with Cole around.

 

“I have a surprise for you,” the small boy slid off the couch and dug around in his backpack as he retrieved a folded piece of bright blue paper, handing it to his dad.

 

Hank thought he would melt, right there and then.

 

In scribbly crayon, there was a drawing of, what Hank assumed to be, a cake and a bunch of balloons. The words “Happy Birthday" were written at the top (he guessed the teacher helped him out)

 

“Cole, how did you…?” the words were caught in his mouth, unable to continue.

 

Cole hopped back up on the couch, “I told the teacher it was your birthday. Her and some of the other kids helped me make you a card!”

 

Hank opened it to reveal an equally-messy drawing: him, Cole and Sumo just outside of their house, a big sun in the corner with a smiley face, and even an attempt at drawing Hank’s ugly, gray car.

 

“Aww, Cole…” Hank broke down, lifting his son into his lap and holding him closely. “This is the best birthday gift ever… thank you, kiddo.” He kissed the boy’s head, letting a tear or two drip into the brown swaths of hair.

 

“You’re welcome daddy.” Cole squeezed back, but his grip lightened as another yawn took hold of him.

 

Hank picked him up, carrying him down the hall to his room, and changing him into PJ’s before tucking him in with another gentle kiss.

 

“G’night,” he flicked the light off, letting the soft blue nightlight kick on.

  
  



	2. A Coin

_ Somewhere in the suburbs of Detroit _

_ September 6th, 2039 _

  
  
  
  


The alarm clock on the nightstand blared loudly, interrupting Hank from his dreams.

 

It was jarring; one moment, he was in some spacey dreamland, the contents of which were now lost on him, and the next moment he is staring at the white speckled ceiling above. He slowly sat up, grumbling to himself, but heard some noises coming from the kitchen through the closed door.

 

Hank rolled his eyes; Connor had been particularly sneaky and suspicious the last few days. No doubt, like most mornings, the silly android was making him breakfast. 

 

Hank insistently didn’t take the day off from work, he had spent enough sick days recovering from the tough android cases the last few months. In order to keep up with Connor, he had thrown his back out once or twice. Besides, it was Friday, and tomorrow started a fresh weekend of sleeping in.

 

With a heavy sigh, Hank forced himself out of bed. He waddled to his dresser with a big yawn, throwing on a hoodie. It was still pretty hot outside, but with the air conditioners going on full blast, it was a little nippy inside for just a t-shirt. The bedroom door squeaked loudly as he emerged, smelling bacon and eggs wafting through the house. After a pit stop to the bathroom, Hank walked in on Connor running about the kitchen.

 

Blue and yellow carnations stood up out of a glass vase, beside it was a big mug of coffee, and a big plate of breakfast. He raised his eyebrows curiously, noticing a few neatly-wrapped packages on the chair beside his spot.

 

Connor, dressed in Hank’s old hoodie and a pair of loose jogging pants, finally turned around, acknowledging Hank’s presence. His expression shifted from slightly shocked to a soft smile; “Good morning, Hank! Happy Birthday!”

 

“Mornin’...” Hank mumbled back, plopping down into his chair. He chuckled as he looked down at breakfast. An omelette with onions, peppers, and cheese, turkey bacon, and whole wheat toast. “You really didn’t need to…”

 

Connor smirked at him, “I wanted to, just like I want to every other morning.” Connor pensively took a seat beside Hank. “As I know you are not always fond of secrets, I was wondering if you would like to be briefed on today’s activities?”

 

Hank chuckled, taking this to be Connor’s way of saying ‘ _ Hey, you are sometimes grumpy about surprises. Want a head’s up?’ _

 

Well, he wouldn't be wrong.

 

“Sure…” Hank started to eat his breakfast, keeping a straight face with a snarky bite to his response. “I want the full run-down. Hit me with it.”

 

Connor nodded, his smile still as sunny as the morning light through the windows. “Well, we are to arrive at the precinct for work at 9am, working as usual as you requested. Captain Fowler has approved my request for funds for a delivery of pizza for the precinct, around 2pm. Officer Chen volunteered to bring cupcakes, as well.” Connor fidgeted with a coin between his fingers, seemingly nervous about Hank’s reaction. “After we depart work at 5pm, several colleagues will join us at a nearby bar for drinks, until you are satisfied or your blood-alcohol-content is between .16 to .19 percent. Then, I shall drive you home, as you will be highly inebriated at the expense of myself and our companions. You will likely request to go to bed at that point...”

 

Hank listened intently as he ate his eggs, which were stupidly delicious, and found himself distracted by the buzzing excitement in Connor’s explanation. 

 

The android’s sorta-official birthday was just last month, and after that he seemed to absorb anything he could on the topic. Different traditions, the concept of surprise parties, other junk like that. When Connor asked Hank about his own birthday, he replied simply with “I don’t really care, haven’t celebrated it in years, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

 

Clearly, Connor took that to heart and had planned this whole day out. Hank knew he would, too… it was actually kind of adorable.

 

“Additionally, I have acquired a few gifts for you. If you wouldn't mind… I would like you to open one now, and the rest upon our return this evening.”

 

Hank shrugged as he bit into his toast. “Sure, why not… any of them?” 

 

Connor posted to the top of the small stack, “The blue parcel at the top, preferably.” 

 

Hank took the box, which was fairly light, and ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a pretty plain-looking white box from a clothing store. He removed the top half, and unfolded the thin, white filler paper.  Hank removed the shirt by the collar out of the box, and his face hurt from his hard he smiled.

 

Everyone in Hank’s life knew, at this point, that he loved a good button down with patterns that most would consider an eyesore. Sometime in his 40’s he bought a bunch from a secondhand store, and wore them to amuse his colleagues. 

 

The delightful monstrosity before him fit the bill  _ perfectly _ . Pastel rainbow stripes, running vertically, with pearly, iridescent buttons. It looked more than a tablecloth from a dollar store that you would get for a birthday party, than a mens’ shirt. 

 

Hank eyed his android partner, who looked on intently as he waited for a verbal reaction. 

 

“This is… fucking awesome, Con.”

 

Connor’s posture relaxed a little in relief, “I… I was going to recommend you wear it today, if you-"

 

Hank barked out a laugh, “Of course I’m wearing this today! I don’t think Jeff has seen me wear a new shirt in years.” He haphazardly folded the shirt enough to set back into the box temporarily while he finished his coffee. “Thank you,” he added.

 

“You’re very welcome, Lieutenant,” Connor replied.

 

Before Hank could say anything else, His faithful canine finally woke up after hearing the commotion, and the big dog lumbered beside his owner with a goofy amount of slobber dripping from his mouth. He waited patiently for Hank to give his some good scratches under his chin, before getting back up and eating his own breakfast that was set out for him.

 

“Hank, it is almost 8am, we should probably start getting ready to leave.” 

 

Hank downed the last of his coffee, “No time like the present… I gotta take care of some business, so you can change first.”

 

Connor insisted on just sleeping on the couch, but Hank wanted him to get used to the privacy of changing in private in his room. Connor nodded, the two of them getting up to go to their respective destinations.

 

Now that he left like an actual human being and not some awakened corpse, Hank could actually look at himself in the bathroom mirror. He didn’t look  _ completely  _ like shit. The grey in his hair had certainly spread since he turned 50, but with all that’s happened it wasn’t necessarily a surprise. Still though… compared to last year, he looked pretty good. Turns out, funny thing, when you stop drinking and eating like you want to die, it really shows. Connor had been a good influence on him to get his shit together, even if it was a pain in the ass.

 

He cleaned himself up with the same old beard trimmer, swished some mouthwash around in his mouth, and even flossed. He’d shower tomorrow morning, he decided. Hungover Hank from tomorrow was going to hate him for that decision.

 

Hank finished up in the bathroom, and took a few steps to his bedroom door to knock, “Hey, Connor, you all good in there?”

 

Jumping in surprise, the door suddenly opened to reveal his partner dressed for work. Hank had convinced him to start wearing stuff other than his old CyberLife uniform, which to Connor meant wearing everything but the jacket. However, Hank was pleased to see today was different. The android had on his usual dark pants, but instead of a plain, white button down, it was a light, rosey hue. “While shopping for yours, I decided to purchase a shirt for myself. Do you think it suits me, Lieutenant?”

 

Hank gave him a lop-sided smile, “It’s a nice change, Con. Looks good.”

 

Connor smiled in thanks, and stepped aside so Hank could get dressed himself. “I’ll let Sumo out before we go,” he said.

 

Hank nodded, escaping into his bedroom and saw that Connor had brought the box with the shirt in already. He swapped his flannel pants for a clean pair of jeans, and threw on a light t-shirt to have under his new shirt. Pastel wasn’t something he normally went for, but the lighter color scheme made him feel less like a walking Pride flag. (Not that it would’ve been a bad thing, but probably would’ve been more appropriate in June.) 

 

After stringing a leather belt through the loops of his jeans and buckling it together, Hank was as ready as he would ever be for whatever this day was gonna be….

  
  


\----

 

“WOOOAAAAAHHHHHH We’re halfway theeeerreeee!” 

 

Connor had made the egregious mistake of allowing Hank to select the music to play while they rode home from the bar. Of course, between the alcohol and the timing of it being Hank’s birthday, he was a slut for nostalgia and picked some classic rock. Connor squinted at the volume of Hank’s attempt at singing like Jon Bon Jovi, but his partner seemed to be having an excellent time doing so. 

 

Most of the police department who weren’t on duty showed up at the bar after work to treat Hank to drinks. Connor kept track of his BAC levels through the night, making sure he didn’t go above a certain amount, but also bought the man a few drinks himself. He also left the bartender a good tip for dealing with such a large group, as was customary. 

 

“Take my hand, and we’ll make it I sweaaar… OOOOOOH!! LIVIN’ ON A PRAYER!”

 

Connor observed Hank as he pretended to play guitar in the passenger seat, “You seem to be enjoying this song,” Connor observed, speaking just loud enough to hear over the music.

 

Hank nodded, his eyes closed as he focused on wiggling his fingers like he was moving them from fret to fret, jolting his head up and down to the beat. By the time the song faded out, they were just about home, so Connor turned off the internet radio station before another 80’s rock song could come on.

 

They pulled up to the house in the quiet little neighborhood, and Connor helped Hank out of the car and up to the front door. 

 

“Whhhhewwww, I haven’t gone out drinking like that in  _ years _ … didn’t know I still had it in me.” Hank babbled as he was gently seated on the couch, Sumo snuggled up at his feet. Connor came over with a cup of water, as well as the rest of the gifts that had been at the kitchen table that morning. “Thanks…” Hank shakily took the water, taking a few sips while he studied the gifts in front of him. “Well… where should I start?”

 

Connor sat beside him, taking a few moments of contemplation before pointing toward a large, tube-looking one. Hank chuckled, picking it up as he continued to hum Bon Jovi (the chorus was stuck in his drunk head), and reveal it to be a doormat.

 

“The fuck?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at Connor.

 

“It will make more sense if you read what it says,” his partner assured him.

 

Unrolling the bristly mat, he read what it said out loud. “Beware: Dog can’t hold it’s licker...”  After a long pause, his brain taking a moment to realize what it said, he burst into snorting laughter, leaning backwards into the couch. “That… where did you even FIND this?!”

 

Connor smirked wryly, “The internet contains a wide variety of options, it would seem.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll say…” he set the mat aside, diving into the next box with a grin. It was wrapped in yellow paper, definitely something made of fabric but wasn’t inside of a box.

 

Connor raised a finger, “I should note… this gift is for you, but also for someone else.” 

 

Unfazed by the new information, Hank continued to tear off the wrapping, revealing a bright blue bandana with a little paw print in the corner, and “Sumo” embroidered beside it. It was immediately put to use, as Hank handed it to Connor and asked him to wrap it around Sumo’s neck.The dog was stubborn about budging from his comfy nap-spot, but he also nonchalantly allowed the android to tie the bandana before going back to sleep.

 

A few more gifts were opened: another shirt, a new mug to keep at the office, a giftcard for takeout. There was one last gift, much smaller than the rest. Something about it’s size seemed ironic to Hank, because it was wrapped with what appeared to be the most care. A small ribbon wrapped around it, and tied at the top in a neat bow. Something about it also seemed suspicious, because Connor had that nervous posture again that made Hank wonder what it could possibly be.

 

Hank decided to sit up a little, focusing 110% of his energy on this gift. As he pulled off the thick wrapping paper, it revealed a small ring-box with a card on it.

 

_ “Happy 54th Birthday, Lt. Hank Anderson. Thank you for your beautiful gift of life, happiness, and partnership. -Connor” _

 

Opening the box, the item revealed inside wasn’t quite what Hank had been anticipated. It was a flattened piece of metal, sort of like a quarter, and definitely for decorative purposes. “Hey Con? Ummm… what is this?”

 

Connor took in a deep breath that he didn’t need, warning Hank that he would be talking for a little while. “If you recall, in December, you agreed to surrender your revolver, as you felt you no longer needed it in the house.” 

 

Connor gestured toward the box and the strange hunk of metal within it, “Before we brought it to the local armory, I removed the bullet that you had loaded into it, and had it melted down.” Connor’s eyes darted downwards, away from Hank’s gaze. “At first, I wanted to keep it, as I felt embarrassed for not telling you I had taken it in the first place. However, a few months back, I decided that I would like to give it to you as a present. It is to symbolize that you have overcome many struggles, and have persevered. You have done so much good in this world, as an officer of the law, but also as my partner… which I am aware has not been an easy thing to deal with.” He smiled, staring down at his fidgeting hands in his lap. “I am very lucky to have you Hank, and I-”

 

His words were interrupted but the sound of a sniff, and he looked up to see Hank’s face splotchy and red, and a hand over his mouth. 

 

“I, no, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to-” Connor blurted before large arms wrapped around him, and he tensed up in surprise.

 

“I’m lucky to have you, too, you plastic idiot.” Hank’s voice mumbled into his partner’s shoulder. “Thank you…” He pulled away, picking up the smallbox to get a better look at its contents. “Thank you for this…and today…”

 

“You are very welcome, Hank.” Connor relaxed, returning a soft smile. “Happy Birthday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 Please leave some kudos, and find me on Twitter!
> 
> @canticumexvacui

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be drinking a lot of whiskey tonight...
> 
> Started working on this yesterday to break myself out of writers' block. I'm trying really hard to get back into the groove of things and try to finish what I've started. I have an OC fic in the works that I won't post until it's absolutely complete.


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